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I turned back to the letter.

Orcades’s visit was brief. And yet, she has such a way with words, wouldn’t you agree? Thus, she managed to say a great deal and leave quite an impact despite the brevity of her visit.

I snorted. That was my mother, all right.

She told us of your situation. No, that isn’t right. First she told us of how she had saved you, Medra. Of how she had somehow stopped you from dying—which feels like such a strange thing to even write—and managed to plant you in another world entirely. Whatever there is to say about your mother and whatever questionable things she did in her past, I must give credit where credit is due: she saved you, and that is a miracle that Draven and I will never be able to repay her for.

I supposed it was rather miraculous. I wondered if they knew about the dragon.

Now, was your uncle a tad appalled when he found out that Orcades had deposited you in a world run by bloodsucking creatures? Yes, I won’t bother to deny it—and I’m sure Hawl and Lancelet will tell you more.

I looked up abruptly. “Lancelet? Lancelet is supposed to be here? Where is she?”

Hawl growled softly. “Finish the letter, and then you and I will speak.”

“But Lancelet.” I stared at the bear. “Is she … ?” Hawl shook their head. “All right,” I muttered. “Fine. Gods.” I flicked my eyes back to the page.

Your uncle is looking over my shoulder, and he wishes me to tell you that he knows Odessa trained you well, and he’s sure you’ve no doubt skewered, in his words, many of those bloodsucking monstrosities by the time you read this letter. Again, his words, not mine.

I grimaced. If only he knew.

Now, Orcades told us a little more about your situation. She mentioned a man named Blake

I flushed and glanced quickly at Hawl. But the bear had apparently grown bored sitting so still and was now polishing their ax. Biting my lip, I went back to reading.

who abducted you and how you were forced into a betrothal with him. She also made sure to mention that he was a blood-drinking vampire. However, reading between the lines—something your uncle at times has trouble doing—I could see that your mother was fond of Blake. In fact, I believe she may even have used the word charming. Did you know, dear Medra, that when I first met your uncle, I wanted nothing more than to murder him in any number of terrible ways? This feeling, of course, did not last.

My eyes widened. “No, Morgan, I did not know that,” I muttered aloud.

Fascinating, is it not, how quickly our feelings may change. How hatred may move to light loathing and then light loathing to liking and from liking to desire and … Well, I’m sure you’ll get the idea. By the way, your uncle is looking over my shoulder again, and he demands I remove the word desire. But I will not. He is simply lucky I did not use a stronger word. Such as, perhaps, love? Oh, Medra. If you are indeed betrothed to this vampire man and if there is truly no way out, I do hope that the feelings you feel for him now have altered. I hope they may even be something like what I feel for your uncle.

“You have no idea,” I whispered softly.

And if they are not, if that is too much to hope for, if this man truly is a brute and if he has abused you or hurt you in any way, then please look over at Hawl. They are supposed to be with you as you read this letter, and Draven has, apparently, given them some rather explicit instructions.

I looked over at Hawl who was, of course, still polishing. “Hawl, what did Draven tell you to do to Blake?”

Hawl looked up with a mild expression. “Chop the evil blond man up into pieces so small he would fit into one of my stews.”

“He wanted you to eat him?” I squawked.

“I believe the eating part was optional. Perhaps I’d simply have fed him to his own family.”

“Gods,” I shuddered, trying not to picture Theo eating Blake Stew. “Forget I asked. Maybe I should’ve used my imagination.”

The bear lowered their head back to their ax.

Now, surely you are still asking yourself why your uncle and I are not there. Well, that takes us back to Orcades—apparently she is no longer with you. She claimed she was now inside of a dragon, if that can be believed. Considering my sister, I don’t doubt she is telling the truth. If only our father could see her now. I wonder if he’d be a little jealous.

I snorted. “Probably.” And no doubt he’d be best friends with Viktor. Or have killed him for us already.

Despite the children, do you know what the first thing your uncle did after hearing Orcades’s message was? He tried to get to you through the same portal she had spoken to me through.

I thought of the silver portal arches that could be found across Aercanum and wondered how exactly Orcades had managed to use one as a means of communication. But then, my mother, as she would no doubt say herself, was a brilliant woman.

He found that impossible, however. The portal had completely burned out; whatever Orcades had done to communicate across worlds had broken the thing. We were traveling at the time and could not even use it to return to Camelot. I suppose that’s what happens when you use an arch to speak with the dead. Of course, we weren’t content to simply give up. When we got back to Camelot, we told everyone the news that you were alive and immediately began to search for a way to reach you. We were besieged by volunteers who wanted to be the first to try to come to you—by whatever means we could find. Fortunately, those means were within our grasp. Guinevere, the high priestess of Camelot, revealed to us a way to cross worlds through the creation of a new kind of portal that the temple had long kept a secret. She also possessed a list of worlds carefully guarded for countless generations.

I looked over at Hawl. “There are more than two worlds?”